His Rose
by Asano
Summary: She was strong, his Rose. Strong and beautiful. Episode tag to New Earth, contains spoilers. Tenth Doctor and Rose.


She'd been silent for a long time.

Considering that this was Rose Tyler, who can (and has, he remembers fondly) talk all seven ears off a Multi-Lobed Audivarian, the Doctor began to get a bit worried.

Granted, after witnessing Cassandra's death, neither of them had felt much like talking. The woman had tried to take Rose away from him; could have gotten her killed at any moment, but still…he couldn't find any residual anger left. It'd be easier if he were stil angry.

No, that wasn't true. Death was never easy, no matter who's it was. Even that of a vain, selfish, greedy, horrid waste of good breathing space that the Lady Cassandra had been.

Except…there at the end, she'd been different, hadn't she? Cassandra, the self-styled Last Human had finally regained a true piece of humanity, and learned with her final breath that beauty was worn within, not without.

Pity that it had to be learned only then, and not before. But that was the way of things, especially with humans. Always making great realizations about life, the universe, and everything just a moment too late.

The Doctor tinkered with the controls a bit, trying to decide where to go next. He could feel several different timestreams pulling at him, clamoring for his attention. He glanced over to Rose, arched an eyebrow at her to get her input, but she wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the central column, watching the rythmic movements of the machinery bits inside, but not really seeing it.

He sighed and stepped over beside the control chair that she was curled up in. "Rose," he said softly.

At first, Rose didn't hear him, just kept twirling the same piece of blond hair between her fingers. "Rose," he said again, reaching out to cover her fidgeting fingers with his, successfully getting her attention. She was so sensitive to physical contact, his Rose.

Hrm…his Rose?

Before his mind could follow that train of thought, Rose's voice intervened, "Yes, Doctor?"

Now that he had her attention, he could just let go of her hand, but he opted to keep holding it. "Rose, what is it?"

She gave him a look that said he might as well have just announced he was wearing women's underpants. "What is what, Doctor?"

"You're being unusually quiet."

She blinked. "Should I be singing a song? Is it song time? I think I missed that inner-TARDIS memo."

He gave her his best no-nonsense look and raised an eyebrow. "Something's bothering you. Out with it. And budge up, there, stop hogging the chair."

Rose shifted over, letting him sit next to her and gave him a small smile. Part of her brain noted that he was still holding her hand and was running his thumb over the back of her palm in a comforting motion. Her smile got just a bit bigger.

"It's nothing, really," she said. "I was just thinking."

The Doctor snorted, but refrained himself from making a comment with admirable self-control. "What about?" he prompted.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, obviously trying to pick her words with care. Like that in itself didn't send up a great big warning flag. "Changes," she said finally, not looking at him.

Oh.

It had seemed…he'd thought they were okay, now. Yeah, the regeneration had been a shock, and him being unconscious when she'd needed him most hadn't helped things along, but…he'd really thought they were okay again.

He started to let go of her hand, but she turned to him and gripped it tighter. "No, I didn't mean you. Well," she amended, "not you in particular, that is."

"Oh?"

Rose shrugged. "I was thinking about how everyone changes, really. Just not everyone shows it as clearly on the outside as you do. But we all change, every one of us. And we do show it somehow, whether its clothes or hair color or body piercings or tattoos…everyone changes."

"Rose," he said gently, "you haven't changed."

"Yes, I have," she argued, facing him. "The girl I am now is not the girl who's hand you took in the basement of Henrik's back then." She reached over and clasped his hand between both of hers. "You took my hand, you told me to run, and you changed my life. You changed me."

He blinked. Well, that certainly wasn't what he expected to hear. Nice, though, definitely nice.

Unable to think of a proper response, he just grinned and pulled her into a half- embrace, setting his chin on the top of her head. Her hair still smelled a bit of apple-grass.

She sighed against his shoulder. He opened his mouth to ask her a question, but closed it again, not quite sure that he wanted to hear the answer.

"And I don't regret a moment of it," she said, seemingly reading his thoughts. He made a mental note to check and make sure the TARDIS's telepathic field was only doing translations, nothing else.

But there was no real way to tell, was there? She'd touched the heart of Time itself, his Rose had.

This lovely, silly, strong human girl had done the most dangerous thing in the universe all to save his life.

His Rose.

"So," he said, freeing one of his hands from hers so that he could wrap an arm around her shoulders, "what brought this bought of introspection on, then?"

She shrugged again. "I dunno, I was just…thinking about Cassandra. About what we just saw." With her free hand, she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she blinked away a tear.

He waited patiently for her to continue, rubbing her shoulder gently.

"It's just…right there at the end. She was human again, you could see it in her. And as she and Chip were dying, when her younger self was holding him like that…it was just…" Rose shrugged yet again. "It was just hard to see her as the person that caused so much havoc and death on Platform One. But she will be, won't she? We haven't changed the timeline for her at all, have we, Doctor?"

"Yes, she will," he said soberly, "and no, we haven't."

"You can never tell, can you?"

"Tell what?"

Rose smiled softly. "What you'll turn into. What you'll eventually become; who you'll become, I guess."

The Doctor smiled back at her. "A very wise man once said that to know the future was to be trapped by it."

"But you know the future," she pointed out.

"Ah," he said, waggling an eyebrow, "well, that man wasn't a Time Lord."

She laughed, then, finally. Pulling away from him, she hopped down onto the deck. "Right then," she said, still holding onto his hand. "Where are we going next, Time Lord?"

"Dunno yet, shall we pick straws?"

"We could throw darts."

"I'm not trusting you with anything sharp, Rose Tyler. Your aim's a bit wonky. I don't want to have to limp away from danger because you stuck me in the bum with a dart."

Rose giggled madly and smacked his arm. He grinned at her and let go of her hand so that he could fly the TARDIS without crash-landing it again. It hadn't appreciated it the last time.

Yeah, all right, Rose had changed, and a lot of that was because of him. But he didn't think she had anything to worry about. Whatever else Rose Tyler's future might hold, she'd never lose that one thing that made her precious: her humanity.

She was so strong, his Rose. Strong and beautiful.


End file.
